Nefarious
by Earth gave me life
Summary: He was evil. All had come to fear him. But when the insane discovers its superior, when the monster faces it's mistress will he submit or try conquer her. Rated MA for language, graphic violence and explicit sex
1. Snake in the grass

I – Snake in the grass

'_It was once said that the darkness called a gathering of virgins to give themselves to the father of sin. Each came wanting and willing to their beloved master. They harbored in the woods of France, near two days walk south of Paris. Danced with fire and drank blood from the sacrificial lamb. In the last remnants of twilight on All Soul's day the Black Coven was seeded. _

_From the coven three daughters were born. Three crows birthed to be a plague on mankind's pathetic reign. In their ruin many lives were lost. Children missing, men and women left in the woods tortured and disemboweled. The livestock slaughtered, missing hearts, tongues and eyes. _

_It took years of searching but two of the witches, Madam Maria Daniella Bennett and Regine-Yvette Doux were ultimately collected and tried for their crimes against the people and country. 37 documented counts of kidnapping. 43 documented counts of murder._

_Both were burned at the stake. _

_The third crow, the shameless tyrant, was never captured. She was devious and impossibly cunning, fading into the shadows out of man's reach. The taste of her venom and the weight of her cruelty scorched through the land like wildfire. Yet she was never satisfied. Her hunger never fed, her thirst never quenched. She wanted more. She needed it. _

_In the peak of her fury, when villages were left to crumble to ash and bodies were strung on rotting trees, she vanished. There was no trace of her. Many prayed God had smite her to the ground. Others came to believe she was defeated by an angle. And some rumored the devil grew jealous of her work and stole her back to hell to be his harlot._

_She disappeared, as did her legend._

_As did her name.'_

"Who could believe such a foolish tale," a young boy, no older than fourteen grumbled while closing the book in his hands.

"I thought boys and girls believed in fairytales." A woman remarked, drawing near to the boy. She was dressed in a dark plum dress, almost the shade of black and a grey cape that laid on top of her shoulders. Her hair was a mad fit of black curls pulled into a messy bun that sat on top of her head, accenting her bronzed face. It was a rarity to see a French woman with such dark skin. She looked like one of the slaves that spent their days outside in the fields. Tanned relatively darker than a Grecian.

She took the book from his hands and examined its cover thoughtfully. The boy scowled getting up from his seat on a fallen tree. "That is no fairytale Adalinda. That is a nightmare some old fool made to frighten little children. I am not a child, and I am not so easily frightened."

"Of course young master," Adalinda smiled, handing the book back to him.

"Do you think it to be true?" He questioned while taking the book back. He walked over to the horse tied up to a near tree and placed it in his satchel knotted to the side of the saddle, "tell me witch, had you ever met any of the crows in your travels?"

"They were executed," she stated in dark amusement.

"All but one," he corrected.

"Yes," her eyes met the boys hazel ones. "All but one."

"A shame they aren't around anymore. I'd wager two franks you could beat them," he boasted childishly. "High and mighty witches killed off like common rats. They could not withstand you. It is hard to think you all came from the same coven."

"Indeed, we are all sisters in some way," Adalinda stepped closer to the dying fire she had made hours before and kicked the loose dirt into it with her leather boot. "But every family has a prodigal child. Rats not even the father can love."

It was quiet then, except for the light rain starting to hit the branches and leaves of the forest they traveled in. Adalinda looked over at the boy considering him for a moment. Dacey was his name; a young French lad deemed an outcast to most that encountered him. When he was eight years of age he watched his mother and father murdered. Hung from an old oak for stealing the tithe from the church. The people banished the boy, naming him filth of sinners. He was forced to drag their bodies out of the village,the only thing he left with save the clothes on his back. She reminisced the time when she had found him, the pitiful state he was in.

* * *

"Boy," the twigs beneath her boot cracked as she approached. "Why are you here?"

The young child kneeling in front of the two unmarked graves turned and looked over his shoulder. He wiped his tear-stained cheek with his little dirty hand. He was a mess. His brown locks were clumped and matted to his scalp and his clothes were weathered and torn.

"What an ugly sight you are," she laughed. Her gaze lifted from him to the grounds around them, searching for any other dwellers. But the wood was quiet, not even a crying bird. "Did your parents leave you boy? Disgusted by the looks of you. I would if you were my child."

"Shut up!" He snapped, barring his teeth in anger.

The woman continued to laugh and walked closer till she was only a few steps away. Quicker than he could react she kicked him in the face, sending him into the wet mud. He cried out and laid on the ground holding his bruising cheek.

"I'd watch your tongue, unless you prefer me to cut it out," she warned and stepped over him, bringing her attention to the graves. "I rather enjoy the taste of tongue."

"You wouldn't," he shrieked in terror.

"I would and will if you do not shut your mouth," she bent down and examined the two poorly constructed stick crosses, rammed unceremoniously into the ground. "Tell me boy, who are these souls your pray for?"

"My…my," he couldn't finish as fresh tears ran down his cheeks. The obvious turmoil he displayed made it clear who was buried.

"I see."

A silence lingered between them.

Grey clouds slowly rolled in, covering the sky in darkness.

"What a shame," the woman whispered and pulled the crosses from the ground. She wrapped her hands around the sticks and snapped them in half.

"No!" The boy shouted in horror, running to her. He started hitting her side as hard as he could. "What are you doing? Have you no respect? You beast!"

Unfazed by his attack, she tossed the broken sticks on the ground and turned to look down at him.

"What is your name boy," she demanded. When he did not answer she gripped his hands mid strike and proceeded to crush them. He cried out in great pain and dropped to his knees in hopes to loosen her grip.

"Dacey! My name is Dacey."

Pleased with his response she released her hold.

"See that was not so hard, was it Dacey?"

"Why?" Dacey sobbed. "Why would you disgrace them?"

"They were already disgraced. No proper burial, not proper grave heads."

"I hate you!" Dacey spat and turned back to the graves. "You evil witch!"

"I am guilty, but it is my nature," she mused, kneeling down next to him in the wet dirt. "You should not mourn the dead. They are a lifeless feast for the worms and nothing more."

"So you admit it then. Only fitting I be plagued by the wicked. You are just like them, just as cruel," he cried. "Damn them! Damn you!"

"Yes, damn us all for our transgressions," she huffed with an indifferent tone. "All of us are sinners Dacey. The true feat is whether one can create a vice or virtue from it."

Dacey sniffed and wiped his eyes, "what?"

"I could help you, if revenge it what you seek," her voice lowered to a dark whisper, eyes darkening to coal. "What would you be willing to pay to see their ruin?"

Dacey remained silent. unsure of what she was plotting.

"What is your desire boy?"

"…I want them to hurt. I want them to suffer," he finally whispered.

"Suffer? How lovely," she grinned, taking hold of the boy. She dragged him through the dirt, and brought him into her bosom, caressing his filthy hair. "And what would you give for this to transpire? How much is their pain worth to you?"

"Everything," he closed his eyes at the warmth of her. Slowly his small arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her like he would his own mother. "What is your name witch?"

She smiled.

"Adalinda."

* * *

"Tell me, Adalinda, if they are rats what are you?" Dacey inquired while mounting his horse.

The woman grinned, pulling her hood up over her head to block the rain.

"I am the snake that eats the rats."


	2. Delilah

II - Delilah

"Where are we?" Dacey yelled ahead, he wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. The rain had died down to a soft trickle but it was growing colder. The woods thickened quite a bit in the day of walking; the tree tops casted a heavy shadow on their path.

"We left the lands of Bulgaria near three hours ago, young Master. We are in Romania now," Adalinda called out. She had traveled ahead to scout the area as well had hunt for their dinner; already she had tracked down a pair of rabbits that she would roast. Stringing them up, she walked back up the dirt path to the boy.

"We will make camp here," she said. Dacey nodded and dismounted his horse.

"How long till we reach the city of Chisinau?" He asked, untying his dampened pack.

"About a week…" Adalinda paused and looked ahead. A glimpse of movement between the trees caught her attention. Quickly she raised her hand, motioning for Dacey to stop moving. Dacey held on to the reigns of his horse, calming the beast as his eyes followed hers.

Stepping closer Adalinda looked into the woods searching for the movement she just caught.

"What do you see?" Dacey quietly asked following her gaze into the shadows that were slowly overlooking the trees. Even behind the dark grey clouds he knew the sun would be setting fairly soon.

Feeling the ominous presence in the dark Adalinda rushed back to Dacey, handed him the rabbits and pushed him towards the nearby brush, "hide and do not reveal yourself until I come for you."

Dacey obeyed, moving into the bushes and crouched low. He watched as Adalinda mounted the horse. With the click of her tongue, she egged him to move forward.

"Stay silent," she ordered. "If something should happen while I am away, summon me."

She kicked the horse's side and trotted into the forest.

* * *

Riding slowly, Adalinda cast her gaze either side of her into the gapes of trees, searching for whatever stalked in the darkness. She could hear the footsteps mucking about in the wet mud; by the sounds of it there were not many, maybe two or three. But the shadows cloaked them well enough that she could not tell where they stood.

"I demand you show yourself," she yelled but no response came. Her patience was thinning. She moved for the horse to turn around when she finally heard someone speak.

"_Halt woman!" _a male voice ordered in Romanian.

Adalinda snapped her head to where the voice had called. From the west of the woods emerged two soldiers clad in black armor; their eyes full of malice and faces contorted in anger.

"_What gives you right to enter the domain of our Prince and Lord?_" The larger of the two barked, raising his sword towards her. The man's arms were bare showing the many scars littering his arm and the dirt that stained his skin. Clearly he was a seasoned warrior; his intimidating aura would certainly make most men piss themselves.

With light humor Adalinda raised her chin and dared to look him in the eyes. Her hand floated and caressed her steed's mane, calming the beast till he settled his stance.

"_Is this the hospitality of Wallachia? My, I'm curious what your commander would say of your behavior solider._"

"_Do not act so familiar with our Lord, wench_," the smaller, younger one intervened rather rudely. He looked just a few years older than Dacey and was clearly new to the art of combat by his stance. Both his hands gripped the hilt of his sword tightly; his arms stiff and nearly trembling from the weight of his blade.

"_Off your horse! Now_!" he commanded.

Adalinda grinned wickedly.

"_I'd rather not_."

The young soldier growled, annoyed by her disobedience. He stepped forward, bringing the tip of his sword high enough to touch her cheek, "_I will not tell you again bitch_."

"_I admire your loyalty to your country soldier…but I would suggest you lower your sword_," the amusement in her eyes vanished quickly and now bore a more sinister light. She stared deeply into his eyes feeling the anxiety creep into his mind. Lips sealed shut and eyes fixed on her being. His pale skin lightened to a sickly white covered in a fevered sweat. The older man noticed the change in him and asked if he was well, but the solider remained unmoving and eerily silent.

"_Your weapon_," Adalinda cooed darkly, "_lower it now_."

Like a slave to his master the soldier obediently did as he was told, though a great struggle was seen in his eyes. He took a few steps back, shaking his head as if to free the grogginess in his mind. Satisfied, Adalinda turned her witching gaze to the other soldier and beckoned him to her command. To her surprise she found him much more pliable than his ill-mannered companion.

"_Your name_," she inquired.

Quick to bent knee, he pierced his sword in the ground and lowered his head submissively, "_Agád Dery_."

"Sir _Agád_," Adalinda smiled sweetly, "_I desire your friend's hand_."

A simple request.

With no hesitation or remorse Agád rose up removing his sword from the earth and snatched his delirious companion's wrist. One forceful swipe was all it took to detach the appendage. The removal of the extremity awoke the young soldier from his stupor. The pain sent him to his knees. Bringing his bloody arm to his chest, he screamed in pure agony.

Agád, apathetic by his friend's cries, brought the hand before Adalinda and knelt again. He rose the hand up to her like an offering.

"_And what goes on here_?" A deep voiced inquired.

A dreary silence hung in the air.

From the shadows she watched a tall figure appear clad in a similar dark armor as the soldiers before her, yet much more menacing. A wine red cape laid off of his shoulders, the length of it nearly touching the ground. Adalinda lifted her gaze and admired his face. Like an apparition he glowed in the moonlight, framed by inking locks cascading down past his shoulders. Handsome but terrifying. A frown adorned his pale lips and an evil tint in his eyes.

"_Agád_?" He inquired, but the soldier remained a statue kneeled in front of the dark skinned woman.

"_My Prince_," the younger one cried, shaking feverously from the pain and loss of blood.

"_Sir Agád was teaching this brat how to behave in the presence of a lady_," Adalinda informed.

The Prince's thick brow rose in fascination and stepped closer to the kneeling soldier, grabbing the offered hand. He inspected the cut of it then placed it back in Agád's hands.

"_And what need would you have for a hand, my Lady_."

"_Perhaps a meal_," she replied indifferently.

A twisted smirk formed on his face, quite pleased with her answer. Moving closer to her, he raised an armored hand and touched the horse's snout with an unexpected gentleness. "_Could such an offensive thing have a pleasant taste_?"

"_Positively exquisite_," she cooed shamelessly.

"_My Lord_," the forgotten soldier wheezed, nearly succumbed by the pain.

"_Agád_," the Prince commanded, annoyed by the interruption. He turned to the frozen man and barked, "_Silence him_."

Adalinda looked passed the Prince to Agád and nodded her head, agreeing with the command. Springing to life Agád rose and took his sword to the wounded man, slashing his chest deeply.

"_What can I do for you, my lady_?" The Prince asked deeply curious of her purpose in his lands.

"_Give me water_," she demanded. The Prince grinned, amused by her request and reached out his hand to the soldier giving a silent command. Agád moved forward, unlatching the sheepskin from his belt, and handed it to his leader. Uncorking the top the Prince offered the drink to her. Nodding her head in gratitude Adalinda took the skin and brought the opening to her lips. She drank a healthy amount of water before returning the skin.

"_Thank you, my lord_."

He chuckled, "_I am neither your lord nor prince. You do not hail from Wallachia nor are you a slave, servant or noblewoman of my land_."

Adalinda nodded her head and smirked, "_Indeed. Then what shall I call you_?"

"_What would you call me, my lady_?"

"_By your name, if you would give it to me_."

A devious grin crept on his lips, "_you may call me Vlad_."

She leaned down, delighted by the faintest shiver he displayed just then. She drew her lips close to his ear, and touched the heated flesh, "_and so I shall Vlad_."


	3. Devour

**A/N: I meant to have this out Monday but the new job prevented me to get it done :3 thanks for waiting. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

"_Italic" _= speaking in Romanian

III - Devour

"_And_ _what name shall I call you, my lady,_" the tone in his voice had lowered a notch, vibrating deliciously down her spine.

"_Very few have been privileged to my name_," she noted teasingly as her eyes glanced back towards the way she had come. In the back of her mind the unavoidable call of her master clawed, pulling her away from the moment. He was impatient and nervous. The time for her to return to his side was drawing close. Her discontent must have shown on her face for Vlad reached up and touched his armored fingers to her cheek. She looked back at him and in return she reached her hand out, brushing it through his long raven hair. The image of him beneath her, eyes clouded in passion and beautiful hair caught in her fingers as she rode him played in her head.

"_It is Adalinda_," she breathed out, bringing strands of his hair up to her nose. The smell was enticing; musk and cloves. A smile lined her face as she listened to him test her name on his tongue; it sounded lovely. A sound she would deeply enjoy hearing him call out over and over again. Slowly she released his hair and started to straighten her posture but stopped when his hand moved to the back of her neck. He gripped it firmly and pulled her face down to his, touching his lips to her cheek. Instinctively she moved her head and brought her lips to his, locking them in a kiss. But in the kiss she felt the terrifying essence of his power. She pulled away quickly, almost shaking at the vision of his dark purpose. It caught her of guard.

"_Lady Adalinda_?" he inquired. A charming smirk lined his mouth as he watched her, curious of her sudden shift in demeanor. Realizing she was showing him weakness she sat up straight and cleared her throat.

"_I have no use for such titles, Vlad. Please do not waste your breath with them_," she huffed in her flustered state.

Once again the call of Master was ringing in her head.

"_Sadly, I must leave you now," _she said in slight annoyance, "_and return to the companion I travel with_."

The Prince nodded his head.

"_Very well. However you and your companion will come to my home_," He told her rather bluntly, leaving no room for her to rebuttal. "_You will be my guests as long as I see fit_."

He turned his attention to his soldier who stood silently nearby.

"_See to it she arrives tonight_."

"_Yes my Prince_," Agád nodded his head in acknowledgment and moved to stand next to the woman.

Adalinda sat silently and watched as Vlad stepped close to her once more, taking hold of her bare hand. He brought the warm flesh to his pale lips and kissed it slowly with an honest gentleness. But she was not fooled. The lack of virtue in his eyes made is clear of his true thoughts and desires. The sight stirred her own wants. She glanced down at his thumb rubbing against her knuckles as though no armor divided them.

"_I look forward to seeing you again, Adalinda_," he kissed her hand one last time, "_my lovely little temptress_."

And with that was gone, back into the darkened forest. She watched him disappear with a wild grin on her face.

_**She would have him.**_

Adalinda momentarily looked to Agád, then guided the horse back up path she came to her most impatient master. The soldier followed behind her silently.

The two arrived at her camp swiftly and Adalinda called out for Dacey to come out from the bushes, which he did in a great spectacle of frustration; a few twigs and leaves had entangled themselves in his brown locks.

"What took you so long," he grumbled. He stopped wiping the dirt from his pants when he noticed the newcomer. "Who is that Adalinda?"

She smiled innocently.

"This is Sir Agád Dery, soldier and servant of His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wallachia."

"And why is he here?" His tone turned sore, as he was deeply annoyed by the man's presence.

"We have been welcomed as guests to the Prince's castle. Sir Agád is here to escort us," she explained, dismounting from the horse. "Collect your things and we will be on our way."

Dacey remained quiet for a moment, pondering the situation. He was not one to trust. It had taken him a long time to rely on Adalinda but even then he did not believe she truly had his best interests at heart. With the contract he had made with her, it was clear he would ultimately lose in the end. Finally at a decision he furrowed his brow and tightened his lip.

"No."

Adalinda glared back at the boy viciously, immediately making him regret his defiance.

"You will do as I say, boy," her voice was dark and thick, sending the cold air impossibly still. Dacey's mouth went dry at the sight of her. Eyes blackened, teeth sharp and the color of copper; stained from the blood of all she had consumed.

This was what waited him; this was the monster he had bargained with seven years ago.

* * *

It was a red dawn and her feast waited.

Glimmers of crimson and fire molted into the dark blue sky; the glow of the sun rising from behind the mountains. Her shadow stretched down the lone road where not a mile away sat the village, quiet and resting. The fabric of her plum skirts dragged heavy behind her in the dirt as she slithered closer. Soft lips expelling white puffs of breath. Curly hair blowing wild in the windless air.

She could smell it. Smell the divine nectar in every home. Warm liquid begging to touch her parched tongue.

Finally she arrived at the old metal gate, lingering near it like an ominous specter as she casted a binding spell. No one would enter and no one would leave this day. Behind the stone wall she could hear a beating heart, someone was there alone. Raising her hand to the wall, her black nails extended and sunk into the stone and with a mighty force she ripped a whole in it. The rubble crumbled at her feet as she leaned her head through the newly made entrance. Dark eyes roamed till she spotted the gatekeeper to the left of her, unaware of her silent intrusion. Aloof of her presence, he sat in a wooden chair reading his book in the dim light of the lantern posted above his head. She contorted through the hole and floated towards him, hugging the wall like a fly. Once she hovered above him she abandoned her solid form and dissolved into a mass of inky vines.

The gatekeeper shuddered, feeling suddenly cold and looked up. A gasp of terror left his lips before her being covered him, knocking him off the chair and onto the ground. The dark matter surrounded him like a cocoon, cracking his bones as she wrapped tighter around him. Minutes later she pulled away, leaving him soulless. She murmured some incantation and conjured the body to rise before her now materializing figure.

"Burn it all," her voice echoed around the body and watched as it limped and stumbled off down the road.

She walked to the first house in sight and with the simplest hex unlocked the front door. In a gust of wind and dark fabric she flew into the house and up the stairs where she found a mother sleeping with her two daughters. Whispering in the dark, she called upon the girls to get out of bed and come to her. Trapped in their sleeping haze they did not see or feel as the witch stabbed into their chests with her sharp nails and remove their hearts. The sound of the bodies hitting the floor stirred the mother from her sleep. She looked over at the intruder then her daughters on the ground and went into a panic, but before she could scream an unseen force took hold of her neck and broke it.

Laughing at the woman's body falling back on the bed, Adalinda devoured the hearts in a bloody mess; red liquid running down her chin onto her dark dress. She moaned in satisfaction, feeling a surge of energy run through her veins. Once she had finished she left the house and the bodies to rot. Stepping back into the street there were fires already blazing homes and the terror filled screams of the people echoed in the streets. Amused, she stood and watched the chaos. Bodies bursting from their homes in flames, men banging at the sealed gate as others crowded around them, pushing and shoving one another in hopes of being the first out. Swine in their cage trying to escape the butcher's blade.

A wicked cackle erupted from her lungs as she walked towards them.

* * *

"Fine," Dacey nodded and mounted the horse. "We shall go."

It took near an hour to reach the stone castle were the Prince resided. Even in the dark one could see the magnitude of it. Once they entered the courtyard they were greeted by two servants. One quickly led their horse away, presumably to the stables while the other escorted them to the main entrance and into the lavished home.

Tapestries covering the walls, rich Hungarian rugs laid out on the ground; it truly was a lovely sight. Dacey gawked, memorized by the luxuries he never had the privilege to enjoy. But Adalinda had something, rather someone on her mind distracting her from the new sights. She was impatient. She wanted to see him again. In a huff she turned to the servant who waited patiently behind them.

"_Where is Vlad_," she asked. The servant boy looked up at her in shock but was quick to recover and bowed his head again.

"_The Prince has retired to his chambers, my lady_," he replied quietly.

Adalinda's jaw tightened. That would not do.

"_Where is his chambers, I wish to see him_."

Again the boy looked up, this time terrified at her bold request._ He swallowed nervously and looked to_ the set of stairs lining the left wall of the entrance hall.

"_His chambers reside in the west wing of the castle, but…_," he was not able to continue as Adalinda suddenly moved towards the stairs.

"_Wait my lady_!" The servant called after her.

Dacey, curious of her intentions tried to follow but was stopped by Agád grabbing his shoulder. The boy looked back at the soldier and saw him shake his head no. Agád turned and led him the opposite direction and down a corridor.

Reaching the top of the stairs Adalinda sauntered down the torch lit hall, walking past each door hoping to feel the Prince's presence. The servant caught up to her and huffed to regain his breath.

"_Please_," he tried.

"_Which one is his_," Adalinda interrupted not taking her eyes from the hall. When the boy did not answer she threw a dark look his way. He stiffened and pointed to the last door to the right. Satisfied, she stormed down the hall followed by the servant to the last door and knocked. A few moments passed before the hand carved wooden door opened, revealing the Prince sporting a lecherous grin.

"_Good evening, little temptress_."


	4. Repentance

SO sorry for the long delay. Life is a whirlwind but I will not bore you with my excuses! I am back and here is a lovely erotic chapter for your patience. **This chapter is rated MA/NC-17. Very explicit, graphic sex, ect. You have been warned.**

**AN: **I was bored with the Italics this time. They are speaking in Romanian.

* * *

IV- Repentance

The servant boy hunched his shoulders in slight panic. His brown eyes dashed to the woman standing smugly beside him before bowing his head low in front of the Prince, "forgive us for disturbing you, my Prince. I could not stop her…"

Vlad raised his hand, silencing the servant. Adalinda smirked at the exchange between the two. A mouse, so weak and timid cowering away from the threatening lion.

"All is well. Now leave us," he ordered, keeping a playful eye on her. Now that she was without her horse and cloak he could truly admire the soft curves of her physique hidden beneath her dress. He would enjoy her beauty fully tonight.

The servant nodded and bowed once more, chancing a glance at the strange woman as she slipped inside the Prince's room. He waited for the Prince to shut the door then quickly walked back down the hall, his head filled with many questions and thoughts of the Prince's guest.

"I am pleased you came to me," Vlad took hold of her hand. He brought her knuckles to his pale lips and kissed them, allured by the warmth they possessed. Wanting more contact, he pulled her close to him, pressing her soft body to his chest. His lips traveled to the shell of her ear, breathing warm puffs of air as he inhaled the jasmine scent lingering in her hair.

"I hope your journey here was a pleasant one," he hushed quietly into her neck, using his hands to brush her hair further away giving him better access. He guided his hands down her shoulders, touching her arms before resting them on her waist.

"Very. The Prince of Wallachia is most generous," Adalinda cooed, happily enjoying his ministrations. Fever crawled over her skin at the sound of his voice; thick accent laced with carnal desire. She felt him shift a leg between hers, spreading her thighs. He pulled the front of her skirts up and moved his hand under. Calloused fingers, experienced from war, caressed her wet folds before sinking the middle finger into her.

She leaned forward and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"I want you Vlad," she nearly growled.

The Prince raised an eyebrow giving a fox grin. "Is that so? And why this declaration?" His hand pushed up slowly, then down, then up again.

"I want what I want," her voice, thick like honey, sent the blood rushing to his groin. Glancing down, he watch her hands loosen the strings of his tunic. Without hesitation Vlad pulled his hand from her to aid in slipping his arms out of the sleeves. He pulled the white fabric over his head, revealing pale skin.

She groaned in approval.

"Let me wash you," he whispered, brushing his lips against her ear. His hands were already at the front laces of her dress; with each tug her dress slid further off her shoulders. His eyes where fixed on her flesh that, with every passing second, was slowly reveled as he pulled at the top. The Prince groaned his approval seeing no chemise. The garment fell into a pool of plum at her feet. With her fully naked for his lustful eyes he stepped back.

"Come," he commanded and lead her through a small corridor to the bath chamber. Already servants had steaming water filled in the tub; an old woman poured the last bucket into the bath. Vlad nodded his head and the servants hurried out of the chamber paying no mind to Adalinda's nudity.

She took a few steps into the room and smirked. A mischievous glint twinkled in her eye as she lifted her hand, creating a swift draft. It danced in the room and snuffed out the torches that lit it, leaving only the pale rays of moonlight to stretch from the opened window.

"A lovely trick," Vlad admired.

"I am honored by your words," she pressed her naked body into him again.

He took hold of her forearm and escorted her to the bath. Helping her step in, she sunk into the warm waters, fully submersing herself underneath. A moment later her head emerged, thick black hair sticking to her skull and back as she leaned to rest against the wall of the tub. Steam rose from the water, rolling up her breasts and neck. Vlad retrieved a small white cloth and knelt by her; the look on his face was one of pure admiration. A king cherishing a rare jewel he had captured. A jewel he was already plotting to keep locked in his castle.

"So tempting," he whispered dipping the cloth into the waters, soaking it fully. Bringing the wet fabric up to her thin neck he rubbed it slowly on the dark skin, watching droplets roll down her chest to the valley of her breasts before returning to the water. The cloth moved over her shoulders, washing them clean before lowering to her chest. Wanting more contact, Vlad abandoned the cloth, letting it sink and caressed her breasts with expert fingers. He watched her chest rise quickly as a sharp gasp filled her lungs. He chuckled, taking his thumb and point finger to pinch a nipple; already the little gem was hard from his touches. Adalinda leaned back further, moaning at the slight pain melting into her pleasure while he moved to the other. He released her and sunk his hand under the water rubbing under her ribs before running his fingers down her stomach. Moments later he reached his prize. Slipping a finger between her thick thighs he stoked up. About to repeat the motion he was stopped by her hand snapping out of the water to grab his wrist. Angry he was interrupted he looked up into her eyes.

Molten amber gazed darkly at him. His rage faltered and he smirked knowingly.

The temperamental beast in the cage; the lock about to be undone. Silently she stood up in the tub, water dripping down her body. Still on his knees he stared up in awe.

"Dear God, woman," his breath barley a whisper. He reached up and touched the side of her hip, grinning. "I have been blessed with my own angel. A goddess."

"God…" Adalinda tested the word on her tongue, looking up as if to see the great father. She stepped out of the tub, her feet touching the stone floor with a wet slap. She moved to circle him. Each step was graceful, delicate, but held an undeniable power behind it. Once her body was barley an inch in front of from his she reached up slowly and slid her fingers in to his raven silk. Harshly, she gripped his roots. She pulled and led him like her prized stallion to the table stationed by the wall. A forceful tug once again had him on his knees.

"You worship your God on your knees, yes?" She dragged her hand down the side of his face and caressed his cheek with her thumb. She hummed her contentment watching his eyes gloss over in full lust, the slight twitch of his noise undoubtedly smelling the spice of her arousal. "Then you can do the same for your Goddess."

She waited patiently for him to show a sign of acknowledgment. His eyes shadowed to a darker hue as he looked up at her, a slow wicked grin crawling on his face. That was it. She took a step back pressing her bottom against the table's edge before rising on her toes and sitting on the wood, shamelessly spreading herself.

"Worship me."

At her command he pushed forward, pressing his lips to her sex. His hands found the warm flesh of her inner thighs and rubbed them slowly. A wanton moan left her lips. Her head tilted back slightly as his tongue snaked out and licked up her cunt, soaking in her wetness. Small strokes up and down turned into deep thrusts, tongue curling upwards, greedily trying to devour all that he could. Another heated cry left her as he gave a quick suck to her bud; a glorious sensation. He brought his pointer finger up to compete with his tongue.

"Vlad," she smiled in delight, brushing her hand through his tresses. She leaned back on the table coming to rest on her elbows. "What a marvelous prayer-"

She couldn't finish as a scream ripped past her lips. His teeth nipped at her bud causing her legs to shake. Her stomach tightened and her breasts rose for breath. His middle finger joined its brother pushing up against the bundle of nerves, resulting in a steady stream of her pleasure. He pulled his hand away and brought his lips to cup her again and drank like a man who had not had a drink in days.

"Divine," he groaned, sucking every last drop into his mouth.

Vlad raised his hand, moving to grope her breast earnestly. Eyes on her face, he studied her reaction to his touch. Her thick dark lashes fluttered close as his fingers brushed over her exposed nipples. Full lips parted beautifully, sighing her content. Chuckling to himself, the dark prince rose to stand. He gripped her by the waist and hauled her over his shoulder then stormed out of the bathing chamber. Sleeping quarters in sight, he rushed to open the door and moved to his bed. Casting her down on the blankets, his fingers worked to undo the ties of his pants. He successfully released his cock with a groan of relief, the heated length bobbing up erect. Grabbing her legs, he pulled her bottom to the edge of the bed and playfully batted at her knees, silently commanding her to open them. She complied. Guiding his cock to her damp lips, he pushed the head into her in one smooth motion, spreading her. The feel of her warmth was beyond him. He forced his shoulders to loosen from their tightened state and rolled his neck. He gave a powerful thrust, pushing every inch of him into her till he met the wall of her cervix.

She gasped at his girth. Adalinda was no virgin but dear Lord she lost her breath at his assault. "Vlad," she whined, feeling him drag his cock back out till only the tip of him remained in her before he forcefully slammed back inside her.

The sweet echo of her cry set him off into a vicious rhythm, rocking his hips hard against hers. Leaning in, Vlad pressed her into the bed. His left hand set next to her head while his right gripped the curve of her bottom, pulling her to meet his strokes. Pale lips mumbled prayers against the hardened peaks of her breasts; his cock baptizing in her wetness. He brought every sin to her altar, every confession with every thrust.

Adalinda cried out. The sensation of pressure in her lower stomach was exhilarating. A heavy fever taking over her until his cock, filling her cunt rapidly, forced her orgasm. Wet flesh slapped against each other as he continued his attack, pounding harder inside her with new lubrication to ease his passage.

Roaring in blind lust Vlad straightened his back. Bringing both hands to hold her waist, he forced her onto his length. A few more thrusts sent him over and he buried himself deep within her, spilling his seed into her abused womb. He leaned down and bit her breast harshly as he rode out the rest of his orgasm.

Finally he stilled, sighing in utter content. He puffed heavily, sweat dripping from his pours as he looked at her. Every few moments he kissed her heated skin while he recovered. Indigo eyes averted to the blood dripping from the bite on her right breast. Reaching over, he gathered the liquid with his thumb and brought it to his lips. He sucked eagerly.

A shadow haloed over her head as her eyes blackened, seeing her blood touch his lips.

"Insolent fool!" She hissed violently and ripped at his hair. "None may drink unless I command it," Lunging up at him, she sunk her teeth into his flesh of his neck; not enough to wound him greatly but warn him of his mistake. He grunted. A mix of pain and pleasure had him trembling. Steadfast in her punishment, pointed nails dragged across his bare chest, leaving thin lines of scarlet. She felt his cock twitch, still inside her and she growled. No need to spoil their moment.

"I suppose it could not be helped," she seethed, anger sobering. Teeth withdrew slowly as she gave an airy howl. Her pink tongue slipped past her lips and drew a wet trail from the bite up his jawline. Her full lips met his pale ones. "What child could resist mother's milk?"

Her voice took a more sinister tone. "But what consequence shall fall to the child who tastes the forbidden fruit?"

She pushed him off her and moved to sit on her knees. Much gentler than before, she wove her fingers into his hair and guided him to lay of the bed, while she shifted on top of him, "tempted by the serpent," she cooed. Her legs straddled his groin and pressed down, feeling the delicious velvet of his prick hardening once again. She reached down and grasped him, rubbing the flesh sensually before moving the head to her sex.

"Have I welcomed the devil in my bed," Vlad cackled, watching his shaft disappear past her folds.

"Yes," she laid her hands on his chest and grinned. "Now repent."


	5. The Seventh Hour

**Jareth'sQueenBitch – Ya know what… now that I look back at their relationship you're right! It does remind me of Ceil and Sebastian. That wasn't my intention but hey I'll roll with the punches. I think the main difference between them however is Adalinda doesn't really take any shit from Dacey. She did him a service and has now been waiting patiently for her end of the bargain (Which will be explained very soon)…Sorry not trying to give too much away but sadly Dacey's time is running out.**

**Regarding if this is a prequel or not, I would say it is. This is how I would imagine Alucard becoming the Monster everyone fears. This story is more about Adalinda and her possessiveness of him. She wants to keep him and will most likely do anything to do so. His transformation into the Vampire King is due to her, which you will find out later in the story.**

**I'm hoping to make this a trilogy starting with Nefarious, then a story with Dracula, Mina, and Van Helsing, and finally drift into the OVA series. **

**Well anyway thank you so much for your review! It makes me happy when readers are getting into it and like to converse! Happy reading!**

**Thank you to bfireworks5****, Lucifae, xxyangxx2006****, and AvaleeDarling for your reviews. I'm glad you are enjoying the story so far. It only gets better from here.**

Thanks for waiting! Enjoy

_"Italics" = Speaking in Romanian_

* * *

V - The Seventh Hour

The cold morning was met by the sounds of a crying crow. Alone, it flapped its black wings against the window. Fluttering quickly, it perched itself on the outer sill and tapped its beak on the glass before peaking in.

It tapped again.

An unearthly hiss pushed against her teeth as she peaked through the layers of blankets. Sitting up in the bed in a disgruntled manor, Adalinda glared cruelly at the bird. Under her breath she mumbled an annoyed curse before glancing down at the bed, noticing an absent Prince. She pulled the blankets off herself and got out of the bed, stretching her overly tired arms. Fingers brushed through her thick hair but stopped abruptly. Feeling a looseness, she pulled her hand away seeing strands of hair tangled in her fingers.

"Damn it all," she glared. Catching sight of her abandoned garment on the floor, she walked over and dressed quickly. Lacing the ties and tightening the corset she made for the door and left, stomping down the hall to retrieve her adolescent companion that she had so easily abandoned.

It did not take long to find him; apparently he had been mistaken for a lesser part of the staff and was placed in the servant's quarters. And since Dacey was not fluent in Romanian he had no success in clearing the matter. When she collected him, she noticed the tiredness in his eyes.

"It smelled," he huffed.

"I do not care," Adalinda walked briskly down the hall. The brunette did not falter.

"There were rats…"

"As there tend to be in lower levels of castles," she snapped. A quick turnaround had her leaning down, facing him, eyebrows furrowed and lip snarled. "You will live."

Dacey stared back but had an awkward look on his young face. He made to speak but stopped himself.

She raised a brow.

"What?"

"Y-your…" He stuttered and looked down.

"Damn it boy speak," she barked, her patience had been lost when she woke.

"Your eye," he squeaked out, grimacing at her voice.

Not missing a beat, she flew down the hall in a quick pace till she found a hanging mirror. She stared into it, inspecting herself. All was the same…wait, there…In her left eye a dark black was bleeding into the iris. Cursing silently, she covered her eye with her hand and turned to return to Dacey bit stopped seeing that he had followed her. He stared at her with a look of question.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," was her only response.

A servant caught Adalinda's attention, walking with his head down carrying a brass bowl. She snapped her fingers loudly drawing his attention to her, "_servant, where is your Prince_?"

The man looked distraught at the sudden disturbance. He looked at Dacey, then at her and blinked a few times. At the sound of Adalinda growling did he finally respond, _"He is in the dining hall."_

He raised his hand and pointed to a set of large oak doors stationed at the end of the corridor. Adalinda lead the boy, but stopped right before she reached the doors. She turned and looked at him, "I would advise you not to speak. I have heard this Prince has low tolerance for annoying children who do not know how to hold their tongues. If you were to say something foolish, he might just cut it out."

That had Dacey pinning his lips together in fright. He sunk a little more behind her and waited for her to go in. Two guards standing at either side reached out and opened the doors for them.

Walking in the first thing to see was a long wooden table holding a good amount of meats, breads and fruits. At the head of the table sat the Prince in all his glory. Black hair brushed back and laying clean down his shoulders. Face clean of all hair save the mustache framing his upper lip. He wore a dark shirt, slightly to loose for his frame; but even from a distance she caught a glimpse of a red mark just beneath his color bone. She smiled in contempt. Her gaze shifted and spotted a women seated to the right of the Prince. She was lovely and pale; dark hair pulled into a neat bun laced with small white flowers. Immediately Adalinda's mood soured and no doubt everyone could see it on her face. Without missing a step though she moved gracefully towards the seat stationed to the left of the Prince. Dacey followed silently.

Vlad leaned back in his seat, smirking like the devil. He watched the slight twitch in the dark woman's jaw as she sat down beside him; her poisonous violet eyes set on his beloved princess. He glanced at the young boy that tailed behind her like a lost puppy. It was very clear he was avoiding his eyes. The boy sat down quickly next to his companion and waited.

Concealing her disapproval Adalinda forced a smile and looked over at the unknown woman. "_Vlad, who is this lovely creature?"_ She reached forward to the plate of fruit and grabbed a few grapes. She plucked them into her mouth slowly. Assaulted by a terrible taste, she spat the offensive fruit out and onto her plate. She glared down at the broken grapes before glancing over at the grinning Prince. He was not paying her any attention, but looking at the other woman.

"_Your sister perhaps?" _Adalinda continued as if nothing had happened.

The woman in question gasped in disbelief, setting her cup down. Anger glossed over her lovely eyes and she turned to the Prince about to speak, but he stopped her. He raised his hand to keep her silent.

"_Ah Adalinda may I introduce you to my lovely Ilona, Princess of Wallachia,"_ he boasted, looking at her, intrigued at what her response would be.

"_Princess you say,"_ Adalinda considered the new information, playing the innocent guest. She looked up as if in deep thought, bringing her hand to cup her chin. Violet eyes snaked over to the visibly offended woman, giving her another look over. After a moment of silence a large smile spread on her lips.

"_My Lord she is stunning. What a lovely trinket you possess,"_ the jab did not go unnoticed by the Princess.

Dacey who had started grubbing on some meat and bread glanced over at Adalinda smacking loudly, a look of confusion on his face. Even though he could not understand the conversation, he was still able to pick up on the tension. He looked over at the Princess watching her chew her food aggressively, keep her eyes cast down.

"_Yes, I am quite pleased with her_," Vlad hummed reaching over and taking hold of Ilona's hand. The Princess looked at him, almost relieved and smiled brightly.

Adalinda leaned forward in her seat, resting her elbows on the table. Patiently, she waited for the Prince to introduce her to his bride, but he simply let go of the girl's hand and continued his meal. Annoyance had her lips lined in a frown. Snatching her cup, she leaned back in her seat.

"_How lovely,"_ Adalinda murmured into the cup and began to down the wine that tasted spoiled and sour on her tongue.

* * *

"Fat cow," she scowled. Twigs and fallen dried leaves snapping under her boots as she stomped through the forest. Her hair was down, bellowing behind her in the wind as she escaped to more secluded grounds. A creek came into view in front of her, eerie light bubbling sounds striking her ears. Teeth chewed at her bottom lip as she paced next to the stream. Thinking. Plotting.

This Ilona was a problem; she was in the way.

Possibilities and scenarios strummed in the dark woman's head as she sulked.

"Insufferable whore," she hissed throwing her arms in the arm.

Perhaps she could drug the harlot; drag her off into the woods and let the wolves feast on her body or take her to the river and drown her…no, someone would see her. Maybe take a knife to her in the dead of night…no too simple. The death of the Princess so be a grand feat. An extravagant punishment for her trespasses. Something more insidious was required. Something that would break her spirit. Make her mad with grief. Break her heart.

A gleeful cackle left Adalinda lips. She brought her hands to her mouth as if trying to hide the joy on her face. Yes… the most delightful torture for the whore. Ilona would suffer, in the worst possible way and watch all the while as Adalinda swooped down like a hawk and stole the Prince.

No…

She shook her head.

Not steal. He was hers. He was **meant** for her.

Rocking her head side to side happily, she walked away from the creek and deeper into the woods, "he will come to me on his knees-,"

Suddenly a sharp pain pinched at her gut and she bent over howling. A deep cough rocked in her chest till she spat out blood. Crouching low, she rested on her knees. Hands pushed into soil as she leaned down in agony, burying her arms in the dirt. A groan erupted from her, smelling the earth. A terrible ache stabbed in her stomach and crawled into her chest, then her throat.

She was starving.

"Dacey," she whined, feeling another wave of pain. The hour was drawing near. "My boy…"

Gently she laid down and remained still. Dark eyes skimmed the sky, watching clouds float by. A crow flew in her sight and she watched it soar down onto a nearby branch. It flapped its wings a few times and cawed. Turning its head, it peered down at her.

"My boy."

The bird cried again.

"Dacey, my poor boy," she broke out into a fit of cackling, snorting. Another stab of pain had her back arched, contorted in a sickening bend. She moaned miserably. Rolling over on her side she sighed in relief.

Another caw.

She started laughing again.

"My boy. My poor boy."


	6. Satisfy

Enjoy my loves. I will comment to reviews shortly I just wanted to get this posted first.

_"Italics" = Speaking in Romanian_

* * *

VI – Satisfy

The last ray of sun sat on the tips of the forest casting a shadow of sharp spikes on the grassy field. Like black arrows, they pointed towards the castle not far off.

Out from the darkness of the tree line she emerged. Hunched over, hair draped over her face like a black veil. A heavy wheeze resonated in her lungs as she inched forwards. Her dress drooped heavily off her shoulders showing the discolored skin of her upper arms. Her nails grew sharp as she reached the fortress and sunk into the hard stone. Like a spider she climbed up the castle's wall, hissing as she ascended.

She spotted the window, she knew he was there. She told him to wait for her.

Crawling onto the sill like a silent stalker, the window opened on it on accord. Slowly, she moved into the room. And there he was, sitting on the bed, aloof to her presence. He stared down at a book, a bored look on his young face. His legs were crossed and his chin was propped up against his hand. Turning the page he yawned and looked up. A terrified shrill left his lips realizing someone else was in the room. He toppled off the bed to the stone floor. Wincing, he gave a soft curse and sat up rubbing his head.

He looked over at her.

"Adalinda, where have you been?" Standing up, he brushed of the dust on himself then crossed his arms impatiently, waiting for her answer. She stood by the window silently.

"Of course you will not tell me. I swear you have been quite ambiguous these last few days," he huffed and closed the book on the bed. "And what is even more annoying it the room you get. I am abandoned in the rats nest while you receive your own private room."

Her fingers twitched watching him move about; rubbing his face, scratching his neck. Every movement sent her senses buzzing. His words were a muffled blur to her. Finally, he stopped and looked at her again realizing something was amiss.

"Adalinda?" he questioned. This time he fully observed her. She looked alright. But something was off. She had the sweetest of smiles on her face and looked at him almost lovingly. "Are you well-"

"Dacey, sweetheart," she hushed and reached her hand out to him. "I have found the most marvelous spring. It is warm and would be perfect to soak in. Come with me and we shall go relax."

"…A spring?" He inquired suspiciously. "How did you-"

"The Prince had mentioned it to me the other night," she continued causally, keeping her hand stretched out to him. "That is where I have been, making sure it was safe. Come with me."

The brunette looked unsure. His eyes glanced over her face and the soft smile that was impossibly kind. "It's getting late though…"

"Tis all right boy," she stepped closer to him slowly, hand ready for his. "It is not far, only a short walk."

Hesitantly, he nodded and placed his hand in hers, feeling it tighten slightly.

"Good boy," she whispered bringing him to her bosom and hugging him tenderly.

* * *

"Adalinda slow down," Dacey whined, tromping through dirt and leaves to catch up to his companion. He could barely see her in the dark as she blended in with the trees silhouettes. The only reason he was able to see her at all was due to the lantern she carried, holding a single candle in it. A branch, hanging lower to the ground knocked his balance and he fell to the ground hard.

"Damn," he cursed touching his knee. He felt a wound and a wetness, no doubt blood. Looking up, he called out to her again. The lantern was unmoving in the dark. Finally she had stopped. Sighing, Dacey got up slowly and limped over to her. "Thanks for waiting, I was tripped by a branch-"

His brows furrowed and quickly looked around. The lantern was alone, hanging on a low branch.

"Adalinda," he called out.

"Yes," she answered, but her voice sounded distant, echoing in the woods.

"Where are you," Dacey turned around looking into the dark, hoping to spot her. He received no response. "This is not funny Adalinda. Show yourself!"

Reaching up and he grabbed hold of the lantern. Something wet and sticky was on the handle; he gasped and dropped it. The flame snuffed out quickly. Looking at his hand he could barely see the substance but the moon gave enough light. There was no mistaking the dark red tint to it. He bent down quickly in a panic and wiped it on the ground.

"Adalinda," he yelled. "Please come out."

In the distance a lantern was lit. With a bit of relief Dacey limped over to it, in hopes the woman's games were done. Once he reached the destination he discovered this lantern was also hung on a tree, no one in sight. Quickly he grabbed it and held it out, using its light to see. Another lantern lit further ahead of him. Then another to the left of him. Two more appeared to the right. A fear surged through him and he started to pant. He looked around trying to remember the way they had come but everything looked the same.

He walked forward slowly, alert and unnerved. The candle flickered wildly as if there was a great wind, but the air was still.

"Adalin-" Dacey gasped as he was knocked to the ground by a great force. He lost hold of the lantern and the flame went out as well as all the others that had been lit.

In the darkness he sat for a few moments, trying to catch his breath and calm down.

A low growl rumbled behind him. He panicked and turned around, backing away from the sound. Standing up, he took off in a sprint ignoring the pain in his leg. He weaved through the trees; the sound remained behind him, following closely. He cried out in terror and pushed to run faster. Something in the shadows flew from the right and knocked him into a large tree. Crying out in pain he sunk to the base of the tree and huddled over, holding his side.

"Someone help me," he screamed, trying to stand again but his leg gave out and he collapsed back to the hard ground. On hands and knees he crawled as fast as his body would allow him. He made it only a few feet before another force came upon him and pushed him flat on his belly. He looked up seeing a single candle appear and with it the woman he had come to fear.

Adalinda stood calm and still. Only her beautiful face was lit but the glowing flame.

"Adalinda please."

A string of candles, various shapes and sizes light up around him. Getting on his knees slowly, he realized they formed a circle around him. A knot formed deep in his belly and his mouth went dry.

He knew what this was…

It had been weeks ago when he felt the foreboding feeling at the back of his mind. The promise that had haunted him for years ago, now coming to claim him.

"Are you satisfied boy?" she finally spoke. Kneeling down, she rested on the ground still holding the candle in between their faces. "Your enemies have been slaughtered and destroyed, their corpses left for the crows and maggots. Their lines have ended and names forgotten. They have hurt and they have suffered. And you, Dacey have lived your life free and unharmed, revenge granted."

Dacey remained silent.

"That was your desire was it not?"

He nodded dolefully.

She nodded as well.

"I have named my price and now I will collect," she whispered darkly. The flicker of the flame revealed her eyes. Black and hollow, they bore into his frightened eyes. A wicked snarl spread her lips revealing hideous sharp teeth, stained with dried blood. Faster than he could comprehend she snatched him into her grasp, ripping at his shirt. Chest bare, she bent down and dug her teeth into his skin.

Dacey watch in utter horror as she pulled back, holding a large chunk of his flesh between her teeth, blood dripping down her chin.

"Give me your heart."

* * *

Adalinda stood in her room by the window that stood open. The plum dress, now soiled in blood, sat discarded at her feet. Her arms were wrapped around her as if she was freezing, but it was the opposite. She was burning. Skin covered in a heated sweat, muscles twitching erratically. Fully enraptured in the high. As much power was surging through her, she was extremely raw. Like an exposed nerve. The curse of consuming after such a long fast had left her weak. It would be days till her full strength returned. But it was worth every hour, every day of waiting.

All she could do now is wait and recover.

A set of knocks echoed in the room but she made no move to answer. The door opened loudly; she listened as footsteps settle behind her. Silently, she turned her head to see him standing there; dark and brooding.

Once he caught sight of her state he grinned.

"_My_," he mused, stepping closer to her. Her black hair was wet and stuck to her head and shoulders like a second skin. Dried scarlet stained her chin and bare chest. "_What a lovely sight_."

She remained still like a snake watching a predator approach. If he ventured too close she would strike.

"_Your night has obviously been more pleasant than mine_," he reached down and touched her chin, rubbing his thumb on the dry liquid. Humming thoughtfully, he let his hand slip down to her sex. He ran a finger over her folds, before sinking it into her. A sharp gasp left her as she felt him move in her. Already her lust was dripping onto his hand and down her thighs. His thumb pushed into her clit and rubbed in small circles. "_Perhaps I can reach such a pleasurable state_."

Dark purple pools moved to look at his face and the smugness that painted it. A heated cry escaped past her lips feeling another finger join and she quickly turned to grip his hair. On instinct she moved her hips into his hand. His pace quickened. Another cry of lust had her face buried in his neck. She bit down on the flesh.

He reached for her hair and snagged it roughly. Growling he removed his dirtied hand from her and gripped her slender neck tightly. She clawed at his arm, trying to get him to let her air, but to no avail. Chuckling, he pulled her face to his, examining her intently. "_What is this? Has my little temptress lost her fight_?"

Adalinda hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep her breath.

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest a he practically dragged her over to the bed. He shoved her on the blankets roughly before following after her. Grabbing hold of her long legs, he spread them. The Prince leaned over her, resting his left arm by her head for support as the other hand worked at the ties of his pants. His dark eyes not leaving hers. With a tug he released his cock and brought it to her waiting sex, "_I suppose it is only just, I take advantage of this precarious situation_."


End file.
